


Reflections

by Mareel



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-07 17:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareel/pseuds/Mareel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No more apologies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> This is post-Season 3 and is AU to Season 4. This is a stand-alone story, not in canon with my other fic. It was written in 2007 for a lyrics challenge, with lyrics from "Better Than Me" – Hinder
> 
> _"I really miss your hair in my face, and the way your innocence tastes. And I think you should know this, you deserve much better than me."_

 

I'm wearing Malcolm's favorite shirt. I didn’t consciously think about it when I pulled it out of the drawer, or even when I put it on – not until now, as I’m scrutinizing myself in the mirror a few minutes before I’m supposed to meet him for dinner. But it seems I’ve dressed more for a first date than for what might well be our last.

I'd hesitated so long before sending him the short message with the invitation, reworded so many times. I wanted to be sure he knew it was Jonathan asking Malcolm – his lover and partner for the past three years – to have dinner, not the Captain of the _Enterprise_ requesting a weapons system consult. So that he could decline if he really preferred not to spend the evening with me. And I thought he might do just that; I was almost afraid to open the comm message with his reply, fearing the finality of a refusal.

But he didn’t decline, and had even suggested a meal in the Captain’s dining room, which would make it a much less public event than meeting in a bar or restaurant near Starfleet HQ or in San Francisco. It's become near impossible for either of us to go anywhere without well-meaning, but unwelcome, recognition and attention.

As I run a comb through my hair and straighten the collar of the dark green shirt, I find my thoughts wandering a little, back to when suggesting dinner to Malcolm was much less complicated. And I remember all the dinners that never happened, sometimes because his kisses tasted better to me than anything else on the menu, and sometimes because...

I take a deep breath and finally admit it to myself. Sometimes, because I didn't want to see the man I'd become reflected in his eyes. So one missed meal led to another, and another... and the silences grew.

Now, seeing my cabin reflected behind me in the mirror, I'm struck by how barren the small room seems without him.

Empty.

But not completely.

Ah, Malcolm, you left so much of yourself behind when you left Enterprise to take that new weapons research position. When you left me.

You never had a lot of possessions… your clothes, your books, a memento or two from our travels. But you filled the whole space with your presence… with your smiles, with your laughter as you tussled on the floor with Porthos over an old tee-shirt.

You filled the emptiness in my bed and in my heart. And your presence lingers. The pillows we shared still hold your scent. When I half-wake alone in the middle of the night, my sleepiness can convince me that you’re not far away… that you’re working a gamma shift, or in the shower… that you’ll be back soon.

Remembering that you aren’t here… or near… is a painful way to wake up. And remembering why that is… is more painful yet. Especially since it’s my own damn fault.

I didn’t even know myself when we got back to Earth after the Expanse. I could look in this mirror and see a man who looked something like me, but I knew that was a façade. Just as the man who accepted ‘welcome home’ speeches and honors was a fraud, not someone worth honoring in any way.

If I could replay those months out there, I know I would have to do some of the things I did all over again. But not all of them. And not all in the same ways.

I don’t deserve you, Malcolm. But I’ve never stopped loving you; I know I never will. I guess I understand why you took the groundside promotion. You told me that you didn’t think there was anything for you here. I’m sure that was plausible to Starfleet, but I knew you weren’t speaking of career advancement. And I was so lost in my own mourning for the man I used to be that I couldn’t convince you otherwise.

“I need you, Malcolm. Please come home.”

I must have been lost in my thoughts, and in trying to figure what the hell I’m going to actually say to him when we meet tonight – for the first time in five weeks. I was distracted enough that I didn’t even realize the door has slid silently open and closed, not until I see his face in the mirror behind me… filling the emptiness once more.

Our eyes meet first in the mirror, just before I feel his strong arms slip silently around my waist from behind and he rests his cheek against my shoulder for long moments.

I can’t speak right away either. I don’t even know if I'd been thinking aloud when he let himself in. I cover his hands with mine, and hold them tightly as I realize my own are trembling.

He turns me to face him, lifting a hand to touch my cheek lightly. I start to say something… to apologize again… to try to let him know what it means to me that he chose to come here tonight, but he moves his fingertips to cover my lips.

His voice is quiet, and as gentle as I’ve ever heard it.

“No more apologies, love. I belong here, if you’ll have me.”

All I can do is wrap my arms around him and pull him close, burying my face in his dark hair. Holding him again, after fearing that I’d driven him away forever, brings a feeling of such peace and such utter rightness. When I finally kiss him, I murmur against his lips.

“You're home, Malcolm… we both are.”

________________________________________________________

 

We never did make it to dinner tonight.

It's late now, and he’s lying in my arms, our legs still tangled together. He lifts his head from my chest to look at me, his eyes saying everything he doesn’t need words to convey. My breath catches at the depth of those sea-grey eyes, at seeing nothing but love reflected in them.

I reach up to brush a strand of hair back from his forehead, my hand lingering to cup his cheek lightly.

“How did you know, Malcolm? What made you decide to come here tonight... and then to come to our quarters rather than meeting me in the dining room?”

He turns his head to press a kiss into my palm before replying.

“It was time. I needed to know if I'd really lost you forever. So I wanted to see if you’d changed the key code for your cabin. If you hadn’t, maybe there was a chance still…”

His lips curve into that smile with just a hint of a smirk around the edges.

“And then I saw that shirt you were wearing, Jonathan… my favourite, you know."

I pull him down into another kiss. I do know, and not just about the shirt. And I won't forget again.


End file.
